


idk what to call this

by orphan_account



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: M/M, Vomiting, Vore, consensual vore ??, this has like fudoki undertones but its just fubu getting vored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:11:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>uh</p>
            </blockquote>





	idk what to call this

**Author's Note:**

> late fudoki day fic  
> lmao who's surprised that its vore? no one? ok
> 
> this also feels kinda ooc but im not sure rip

Fudou lay on his bed, his door locked and his hand balled into a light fist, held in front of his face. Inside the fist, he held onto a small person, the person not seeming to struggle. Fudou arched an eyebrow, staring at him with narrowed eyes.

“Fubuki, are you sure you want me to do this?” Fudou hoped. Oh, he hoped Fubuki would let him. His stomach was growling and even though he wouldn't want Fubuki to digest in him, he would settle for some temporary relief.

Fubuki just nodded “Mhm, positive.”

Fudou, now too hungry to care, opened his fist and picked Fubuki up by his clothes, opening his mouth and bringing the small boy closer to him. Warm breath enveloped the boy before he was sucked in, Fudou lapping at him and trying to get a taste of him.

Fubuki tasted nice. Fudou couldn't get enough of it, really. He ran his tongue over the small boy, hearing no protest from him. The taste soon faded and Fudou swallowed, sending Fubuki down his esophagus.

It was tight, cramped, and Fubuki could barely move. He didn't mind, though. It was warm, and the sound of Fudou's heart beating was all around him, comforting him in a way. He stayed in the esophagus for awhile before his feet gave way and he fell into the stomach.

He landed with a splash in the acids, standing up and looking around. The acids stung a bit, but that wasn't a problem now. Fudou gave a satisfied hum and rested a hand on his stomach, glancing down at it “You okay in there, Fubuki?”

“Mhm! It's nice in here.” He called back, the voice faint but still audible to Fudou's ears. Fubuki tried to ease himself out of the acids, managing to get to a spot where only his feet were in them. He rested himself against the walls of Fudou's stomach, leaning his head back against it.

Fubuki was content, though he soon realized he had no idea how he'd get out. He knew Fudou didn't want to digest him, he was apprehensive about eating him as is. He stood, peering at the opening to the esophagus.

“Fudou?”

“Hm?” Fudou hummed, opening an eye and glancing down at his stomach.

“How am I gonna get out of here?”

Fudou sat up, thinking for a moment “...I could try to make myself throw up? It's gross, I know, but it's probably the only way you're gonna get out of there alive.”

“I'll try anything. I mean, it's nice in here, but I don't wanna get digested..”

Fudou stood, wandering to the bathroom and standing there for a moment.

“Should I just.. shove my fingers down my throat? I dunno if there's anything in here that could make me throw up...”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Fudou shrugged and moved to kneel on the floor, wanting to make the drop shorter for Fubuki. He took two fingers and shoved them to the back of his throat, pushing more in until he felt a sharp nausea. Doubling over on the floor, he coughed and gagged a few times before hacking Fubuki up onto the floor, holding his stomach in his arms.

Fubuki landed on the floor, wincing as he hit the cold tile. He stood, glancing down at his soaked clothes and then up to Fudou, who was now resting his forehead on the tile, shuddering a bit.

“Fudou?” He questioned, the mohawked boy looking to him after a bit.

“S-Sorry.. That was messier than I hoped it would be...”

Fubuki just chuckled a bit, shaking his head “Nah, it's fine. I don't mind.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm!” He glanced down at his clothes again “I feel kinda gross, though.”

Fudou smirked a bit, holding his hand out to Fubuki “C'mon, let's get you cleaned up.”

Fubuki climbed onto his hand, smiling up at him.

“Thanks.”


End file.
